I can't remember the last time I wrote this long of a chapter (over 4,000 words compared so some author's 9,000) /shot. Anyway, TONS of events happen in this chappie so I hope it is to your enjoyment. Forgive me for grammar/spelling/foreign language mistakes. This is unbeta'd.
Happy reading!
Warning: Language
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.
Chapter Nine
"Uncle Gilbert! Uncle Francis!" Antonio hugged the duo tightly when he answered the door.
"Hey, little guy! Man, you've gotten so big! You'll be as awesome as me one day! But not too awesome because I'll still be the most awesome person out there," Gilbert grinned.
"You talk too much," Francis rolled his eyes but then his expression softened when he looked at Antonio. "How have you been doing?"
"I've been good. Papa and I just got back from the store and he let me eat the candy he got for me. I had to finish all my lunch though. Even the vegetables," Antonio made a face of disgust at the mention of the food.
"Well, Toni, you need to eat all your vegetables to get big and strong," Francis explained.
"Bleh! But they're so yucky—I don't want to eat them," Antonio whined.
"Don't listen to Frenchie, he's just being a hard ass," Gilbert said and earned a solid smack to the back of his head. "Ow! What was that for?"
"You know not to be using that kind of language around him!" Francis scolded.
"His dad's just as much of a bad mouth as I am! I'm surprised the kid is still innocent!" Gilbert rubbed his head and grumbled something indistinctly.
"Speaking of your dad, where is he? He hasn't come down and yelled at us yet," Francis looked around.
"Oh he's upstairs working on something. I don't know what it is but he told me to behave and not get into any trouble at all. I have to listen because I made a promise to Papa that I would be a good boy from now on," Antonio explained.
"I see. Well we'd best not disturb him," Francis nodded.
"I'll go up and get him," Antonio stumbled up the stairs and reached Lovino's room where the Italian was fast asleep on his bed, laptop beside him. The screen displayed an open document that was no doubt Lovino's next book he planned on publishing (if he ever got around to it).
"Papa," Antonio crawled onto the bed and Lovino did not stir. "Papa, wake up. Uncle Gilbert and Uncle Francis are here."
Lovino still didn't budge and kept his even and peaceful breathing. Beginning to get frustrated, Antonio scooted closer to the Italian and opened one of Lovino's eyes forcefully, "Papa. Wake up, Papa."
This time Lovino did regain consciousness but only for the time it took for him to roll over and fall back to sleep. Antonio was beyond frustrated now. He stood up and jumped onto his father and the Italian let out a grunt of both surprise and a bit of pain.
"Toni, what're you doing?" Lovino sounded irritated as he rubbed his eyes.
"Uncle Gilbert and Uncle Francis are here," Antonio replied innocuously.
"Oh okay," Lovino nodded, resting his head on the pillow again and closed his eyes. But then they snapped open. "Wait, who's here?"
"Uncle Francis and Uncle Gilbert," Antonio blinked a few times in confusion.
"Who let them in?"
"…I did…"
"Antonio Vargas," Lovino started, and the boy knew he was in trouble when his full name was being used and his father's look was austere, "What have I told you about answering the door?"
"To not to…" Antonio twiddled his thumbs.
"Right. So why did you do it?"
"I didn't want to wake you up. I wanted to be a big boy and open the door by myself…"
After hearing that answer, Lovino's anger dissipated. He didn't want to physically discipline him (since his own father abused that power when he was a child but that was another story for another day) and Antonio wasn't a bad kid. A scolding would usually be sufficient enough. Like any other child his age, he would slip up and make mistakes. He couldn't stay mad at the toddler for long—not even when he was grown man.
"All right, all right, I'll be down there in a minute," Lovino sat up and Antonio's eyes brightened.
"Okay Papa!" Antonio ran out the door and back down the stairs.
Sighing with amusement, Lovino saved his work and shut his laptop down, stretching soon afterward and sat on the edge of the bed. He couldn't believe he had actually fallen asleep. Well, in a sense, he could. The editor had been literally breathing down his neck about the book he was currently writing and had lost an adequate amount of sleep because of this.
He rubbed his neck tiredly. This job was paying the bills and keeping food on the table so he had little room to complain. Antonio was being supported and that's all that mattered. Standing up, with his back popping in a few places (he swore he was getting too old), Lovino made his way to the living room.
When he arrived, he was greeted by Antonio and Gilbert wrestling on the floor and Francis watching the duo. Lovino only rolled his eyes and took a seat opposite Francis on the other couch.
"Ah, and he makes an appearance! Bonjour, Lovino. I assume you slept well?" Francis smirked.
"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty!" Gilbert grinned before being tackled by Antonio again and the little bout continued on good-naturedly.
"Hi," Lovino simply said.
"You must really be tired if you're not yelling at us. What's been keeping you up late at night, mon ami?" Francis asked.
"Work," Lovino yawned again.
"Ah, paperwork?"
"You could say that," Lovino shrugged.
"Toni, does my brother ever let you wrestle around with him like this?" Gilbert asked as Toni was climbing on top of his head but only managed to sit atop the Prussian's shoulders.
"Uh, sometimes. Sienna and I wrestle each other a lot and then we'll get Uncle Ludwig to come and wrestle, too," Antonio replied with a thoughtful look and rested his head on Gilbert's.
"He's still not as awesome as me though, right?"
"You're both pretty awesome, Uncle Gil," Antonio let out a tiny giggle.
"But I'm more awesome!" Gilbert protested with a frown (pout).
"And that's why you still write in a journal like some silly junior high girl, oui?" Francis smirked, knowing he had struck a nerve.
Gilbert's russet eyes almost turned red from anger and embarrassment, "Who told you about that?"
"No one; you've been doing it since junior high," Francis had a triumphant expression.
"Hmph! I refuse to acknowledge your presence anymore, stupid Frenchie," Gilbert turned his back to the blonde. "Now, Toni, would Ludwig give you awesome toys every time he comes to visit?"
"You see him once every few months," Lovino commented. "My brother and your brother see him almost every day."
"Did I ask you for your opinion? No? So stay the hell out of my business. I am trying to have a conversation with my awesome nephew," Gilbert growled, still flushed from his secret being revealed.
"He's my son so I have the right to enter any conversation that fucking concerns him," Lovino retorted calmly, unaware of the word he let slip.
Antonio had a confused look as he hopped off of Gilbert's shoulders, "Papa, what does 'fuck' mean?"
All heads swiveled to Antonio in astonishment and the child merely blinked a few times, trying to assess why they were all giving him such funny looks. Was it something he said?
Not being able to hold it any longer, Gilbert and Lovino burst into laughter, clutching at their sides. Francis, on the other hand, still carried his surprised expression. Antonio's head tilted to the side. Why were they laughing? Was the question he asked a joke?
"That is not funny!" Francis reprimanded the two grown men in the room who were still laughing almost uncontrollably. Rolling his eyes, the Frenchman looked at Antonio, "Toni, mon cher, you mustn't say that word. It's a very bad word."
"It is?" Antonio gasped and covered his mouth with both hands and had a fretful look. "Papa says it all the time so I thought it was okay if I said it, too."
"Non, non, you must not. Only grownups are allowed to say that word," Francis explained gently.
"Oh okay," Antonio nodded.
Finally gathering himself, Lovino managed to stop laughing for a few minutes to also explain, "The Frenchie's right, Toni. You can't say that word. Not until you're much, much older."
"Okay, Papa. I won't say it anymore," Antonio smiled.
Gilbert, finding too much enjoyment in this, was still chuckling, "That made my day, man! That was sheer awesome-ness at work! You've got one hell of a kid here!"
The Prussian was immediately met with a pillow being hurled at his face by an aggravated Italian.
"You son of a-" Gilbert caught himself as he was about to the throw the pillow and dropped the fluffy weapon. "You're lucky your kid is in the room or we'd have a serious problem."
"Is that you or your ego talking?" Lovino raised an eyebrow.
Gilbert was about to reply but stopped short when Antonio exclaimed happily, "Wow! You got me an airplane? How cool! Thank you, Uncle Gilbert!"
"No problem, little man!" Gilbert gave the child a thumbs-up.
"There's more in the bag, Toni," Francis smiled.
"Really?" Antonio dug into the bag excitedly and pulled out a small box. Opening it, his face lit up even more. "Wow! Toy soldiers! Their faces are all different!"
The wooden toy soldiers were painted in brown uniforms, some had moustaches, and some didn't. Some looked happy while others looked sad or angry.
"Oui, that is the handiwork of a very good friend of mine in England. His name is Arthur Kirkland. He claims he hates me but still hangs around," Francis shrugged. "His own son Alfred has some toy soldiers just like those and Arthur had made them just for him. Alfred still has them even though they are a bit worn out."
"How old is Alfred?" Lovino was curious.
"Sixteen. He'll be turning seventeen on July 4th," Francis answered. "I swear Alfred Jones is as crazy as they come. Eats almost seven hamburgers in one sitting and still manages to stay as thin as he is."
"Jones? He has a different last name than his dad?" Lovino raised an eyebrow.
"Yes. Alfred's mother passed away shortly after he was born so to honor her memory, Arthur gave Alfred his mother's maiden name. Alfred never truly had the chance to know her save for those first few days she held him. He remembers her, though, which is absolutely remarkable," Francis said with a sad smile.
"I see. Well tell him that we appreciate it. He didn't have to do that," Lovino didn't look at the Frenchman.
"Of course," Francis nodded.
Antonio, now playing with his plane and toy soldiers, grabbed the phone (which he assumed was the broken one he always played with) and punched in a stream of numbers. He pictured it as a walkie-talkie and those numbers were now a special top secret code.
He placed it to his ear and froze when he heard the dial tone. The child became even more worried when someone actually answered on the other line.
"Hello?"
"Um, hi…" Antonio said meekly.
"Hi. Who is this?"
"Antonio. Who is this?" the boy replied.
"Ah, Antonio! It's Marcello. Remember me from the store?"
"Oh yeah! I remember you now!" Antonio grinned.
"Antonio, who're you talking to?" Lovino was on his feet and making his way towards him.
"It's Mister Marcello, Papa. The man from the store, remember?"
Lovino's brow twitched, "He called?"
"No, I accidentally did. I thought it was the broken phone I always play with," Antonio handed the phone over to his parent.
Taking it, Lovino was suffice with that answer and pressed it to his ear, "Sorry about that. He didn't mean to call you."
"It's all right—no need to worry about it. He's a great kid. You know, I was just thinking about you," Marcello's smile could be heard through the phone.
Lovino turned red instantly—whether of embarrassment or the fact that he was indeed attracted to this peculiar young man was even beyond him.
"I was thinking I could take you out to dinner sometime this week—if you don't mind, of course."
"We've only met once and you're already asking me out?" Lovino nearly yelled.
"Well, I like you, believe it or not. You're interesting to me," Marcello laughed.
"You hardly know me," Lovino nearly growled.
"I know that you're different."
"You make it sound like a bad thing," Lovino raised an eyebrow.
"No not at all!" Marcello let out a hesitant laugh. "Hmm, 'unique' is a better word."
"Unique, huh? Cliché but I'll take it."
Marcello didn't seem like too bad of a guy when they first met… maybe one dinner wouldn't hurt… besides, he'd like to get to know this guy's 'ulterior motive' for helping Antonio. He couldn't help but be overprotective of his son.
"So what do you say? Friday night at Luigi's Restaurant? Eight-thirty? Of course I'll pick you up and pay for the night."
"Sure. Friday night is fine," Lovino agreed, catching the attention of the other men in the room.
"Awesome. I'll see you then."
"Yeah…" Lovino nodded and they hung up. It was then that the sheer realization of the situation sent into a near panic attack. He just agreed to go out to dinner with a man he hardly even knew but was undoubtedly attracted to.
Perfect…
"Whoa, man, who was that? You got a date or something?" Gilbert teased.
Lovino could've killed him right then and there and the police would've never found the body. "I guess…"
"That is great, Lovino. You deserve to have someone to love again," Francis gave an approving nod.
Yup, there goes his second victim. No evidence would've been left of the two. He would kill them—kill them dead. Like with a rock… or something.
He hadn't been this nervous for a simple dinner ever since Antonio first asked him out. Now that had been a serious case of butterflies in his stomach. Child Antonio's curiosity was now peaked and he listened to the adult's conversation. What was a date? His dad didn't mention taking him along.
Whatever this 'date' thing was it didn't sound too good… or fun for that matter.
"Papa, what's a date?" Antonio wondered. The boy grew even more confused as his father turned an unbelievable shade of red. Was he sick? Did he have a fever?
"Glad you asked, little man," Gilbert smirked. "A date is when two people go out to dinner or a movie and talk about romantic stuff no one cares about—at least not us awesome single people. They kiss and hug and other gross things. Oh and no kids are allowed."
"Really?" Antonio seemed sad. Did his dad not want him to come? He promised that he would be a good boy, and he really was trying! He made his bed every day (it was not as neat as his dad's but he tried!), picked up his toys and put them back in the toy box, and even helped his dad do the chores around the house!
Was… his father angry at him?
He hoped not!
"Why can't kids go?" Antonio questioned.
"Because it's really boring—you'll be the only kid there while your dad is hanging out with another guy," Gilbert said.
So he and his dad wouldn't be spending any together on this date thing? Antonio could've sworn he felt his heart break. But something new and completely foreign ignited inside of him. He didn't want his father spending time with someone other than him. It was supposed to be just him and his dad forever and ever!
His Papa couldn't go on a date! He wouldn't allow it? What if he never came back because he liked it better with someone else instead of him? Maybe if he pretended to be sick or hurt, his dad would just have to stay home with him!
"Toni, don't listen to anything that idiota says. He makes it sound way worse than it is. I'll be back on the same night as I leave," Lovino held the boy close when Antonio's eyes filled with tears.
He understood that Antonio was nervous about him leaving. The duo hadn't really been separated for more than hour—two at most. There wasn't any need for them to. Antonio had become the center of the Italian's world once again.
"It's just for a few hours and then I'll be back home, okay? There's nothing for you to worry about at all," Lovino offered a smile.
"But you're my daddy…" Antonio sniffled.
"I know I am and I always will be. Remember Marcello? The man who helped you in the store? He's the one who's taking me out," Lovino said.
Antonio pouted. If Mister Marcello was taking his daddy away from him then he didn't like that guy anymore! He didn't care if Marcello helped him find his dad! He was a jerk—a big fat stupid jerk!
"Will I be able to go on a date, too? The kind that allows kids?" Antonio gazed into the eyes of his parent. He noticed that they were a much lighter hue than his.
"Of course. Promise," Lovino nodded.
"Pinky promise?" Antonio held out his tiny finger.
"Pinky promise," Lovino hooked his larger finger around Antonio's.
Antonio smiled, "Okay, Papa. You can go on your little 'date' thingy."
Lovino rolled his eyes playfully, "I needed your permission?"
"Sí!" Antonio grinned.
"He can stay with the awesome me while you're out!" Gilbert grinned.
"Fat chance," Lovino scoffed. "He'll stay with your brother before he stays with you."
"You suck."
"Is that what you did last night?"
Gilbert sputtered over his words at the innuendo—or rather the fact that Lovino was being so blunt.
"Checkmate," it was Lovino's turn to smirk.
"I hate you!" Gilbert growled.
Friday came fairly quickly for the Vargas family. The sky was a beautiful canvas of peaches, magentas, and flamingo pink. Marcello was going to be arriving in the next hour and Lovino was still contemplating what he should wear. He didn't want to overdo it but he wanted to look somewhat decent. Settling on a red button-down shirt and dark wash jeans, Lovino proceeded to get dressed.
Antonio was all set for the night and was playing downstairs, playing with the new gifts he received from Gilbert and Francis's friend. The boy was definitely excited about spending the night at his uncle's house and getting to play with Sienna. He fixated the green wool hat on his head that represented the face of a turtle.
After slipping on his shoes, Lovino went downstairs, expecting to find Antonio but was met with an empty living room.
"Antonio?" he called. "Where are you?"
"In here, Papa," Antonio replied back from the piano room. And as if to prove his point, he played a few random ivory keys.
Lovino sauntered inside the room and sat on the piano bench beside his son.
"Papa, before I go, can you play me a song?"
"Which one?" Lovino questioned.
"Any one. It doesn't matter to me," Antonio smiled.
Lovino nodded and surprised at how easy the first measure of the piece came to him, he began to play. But this time, the song wasn't the forlorn tune of a broken heart. It was one of a heart that had mended however; nonetheless, the scar was still there and was still fragile.
The song made Lovino relive all the beautiful memories he shared with Antonio back then… and right now.
Antonio watched his father play and even though he had seen this many times before, it still amazed him. He thought of a bird gracefully soaring through the sky high above the earth, unmatched by any other creature. The Italian's fingers glided over the keys like swans skimming over the surface of the water, barely making a ripple on its tranquil surface.
Then Antonio noticed something else. His dad was always so sad when playing the piano. Why was that? He thought his father liked playing the piano. It made him happy so why wasn't his dad happy, too?
"Papa?" Antonio broke the silence after Lovino had finished the piece.
"Yes?"
"Why are you so sad?"
Lovino would've been lying if he said the question didn't catch him off guard. Making sure he heard right, Lovino looked at the boy and the sincere gaze he was receiving was all that was needed.
"Well," Lovino sighed, running a hand through his hair, "one of my very good friends used to ask me to play the piano for him all the time, just like you do."
"Really? Where is your friend? Can I meet him?" Antonio was sitting on his knees.
"You, um, can't meet him, Toni," Lovino tried to find the right way to phrase it.
"How come?" Antonio's head tilted to the side, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.
"He passed away before you were born," Lovino placed his head atop Antonio's head.
"He did? Oh… that's really sad… where do you think he is now, Papa?"
"Wherever he is, I hope he's happy," Lovino smiled although it was pained.
The knock on the door interrupted their conversation and Antonio bounded off the bench yelling excitedly, "Zio Feliciano! Zio Ludwig!"
The Italian followed closely behind him and Antonio was bouncing on the balls of his feet, absolutely thrilled. Lovino opened the door and the child darted out the door and Feliciano toppled over into Ludwig's arms when Antonio had nearly tackled him.
"Someone's excited to see us," Feliciano laughed.
"I'm always happy to see you guys! Where's sis?" Antonio looked around.
"Right here, Toni," the girl appeared from behind Ludwig. Her strawberry blonde curls were tied into pigtails with blue ribbons that matched her dress. Sienna, now six years old, had finally come out of her shell and blossomed into a beautiful but still ever-growing flower.
"Hi, Sisi!" Antonio hugged the girl tightly.
"Hi, Toni," Sienna giggled.
Turning back to his dad, Antonio saw that Lovino had knelt down to be at eye-level with him.
"Yes, Papa?"
"Be good, all right? I'll know if you weren't," Lovino said.
"I know, Papa. I will be," Antonio hugged the Italian. "Vi amo, Papa."
"Ti amo, figlio," Lovino hugged the child back and kissed his head.
"You have fun, fratello! And let me know how it goes! No details spared!" Feliciano clapped his hands excitedly and in a near childish manner.
"Yeah, whatever," Lovino put his hands in his pockets.
"Come on, Toni! Let's beat my Mommy and Daddy to the car!" Sienna reached for said child's hand.
"Okay!" Antonio tried to keep up with the girl as best he could.
Ludwig sighed and followed the children to the car just to make sure they didn't hurt themselves in their little 'race' to the vehicle.
"Grazie, fratello," Lovino said, watching the sun dip down below the horizon like an unforeseen kiss.
"There is no need to thank me," Feliciano spoke in his native tongue as well. "Antonio will be fine. What time do you anticipate to be back?"
"Around nine probably. Ten at the latest. Have him in bed at 8:45, okay?"
"Got it. Just call when you're outside and the front door will be unlocked," Feliciano waved as he was heading towards the car. "Have fun, fratello!"
Lovino waited until the car's tail lights melted into the darkness before retreating back into his home. He glanced at the clock.
7:45.
Marcello would be here any minute now—
The doorbell rang.
Speak of the devil, Lovino muttered inside his head. The Italian opened the door almost uncertainly and was met with Marcello's flawless smile and cobalt eyes. The Italian-American was dressed in a beige sweater and dark wash jeans and the outfit complimented every aspect of him.
"Ciao~," Marcello smiled.
"Hi," Lovino stuck to speaking English.
"You look great! I was afraid I was underdressed or something!" Marcello scratched the back of his head which seemed to be a nervous habit.
Fighting down a blush and the urge to insult this man, Lovino replied quietly, "Grazie."
"Shall we go?" Marcello stepped aside for Lovino to take the lead and fell in stride behind the Italian. He opened the passenger door for Lovino and quickly went around to the driver's side.
The car ride over there was fairly awkward since neither had the intention but wanted the other to break the silence. Not being able to withstand the quiet, Lovino reached for the radio at the same time Marcello did and their fingers brushed as falling feathers would kiss the ground.
They retracted their hands back just as quick and did not miss the electric current that tingled at their fingertips. Lovino kept his hands firmly in his lap.
"So Lovi," Marcello began but was taken aback at how negatively Lovino responded to that statement.
"Lovino. My name is Lovino. Don't call me Lovi," the Italian did not take his eyes off the road but with the headlights of cars passing by, there was no doubt that what Marcello said had triggered memories the young man would rather forget.
"Ah, I see. Mi dispiace. I didn't mean to offend you," Marcello sighed. He was already screwing up.
"Don't worry about it," Lovino mumbled, the hurt still evident in his voice.
After more agonizing moments of silence, Marcello shattered it again, "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine so don't ask again," Lovino replied.
"Look, I'm really sorry if I've upset you. It wasn't my intention. I just thought-" the blue-eyed man sighed. "Never mind. Forget I ever said anything."
"No, I've already forgotten about it. You haven't. So come on. I don't plan on spending the rest of my night standing outside," Lovino rolled his eyes and went to the restaurant's entrance.
With the weight lifted off his chest, Marcello happily followed behind.
Lovino quietly entered the house, hoping that the floorboards wouldn't creak unbearably loud. He had returned at ten, just as he said he would. Feliciano and Ludwig were on separate couches watching what he recognized as The Lion King but the kids were fast asleep. Sienna was curled up against her father's chest while Antonio was lying against Feliciano.
"How did it go?" Feliciano whispered so as not to wake the children.
"It was all right," Lovino picked up Antonio's tomato backpack that was full of coloring books and his toy airplane and soldiers. He reached out for the boy and Feliciano happily handed said child over. "How did he do?"
"He was wonderful as always. I don't even know why you ask," Feliciano grinned.
"I'm curious," Lovino shrugged. "Thanks again for doing this."
"Like I said, no need to thank me. I'm always happy to babysit him. He and Sienna have tons of fun together," Feliciano stood up and stretched out his sore muscles while Ludwig went to put Sienna to bed.
Lovino and Ludwig only shared a single nod in greeting and departure before their attention was drawn elsewhere.
"So he's a nice guy?"
"Yeah… he's nice," Lovino mumbled.
"Fantastico," Feliciano sighed in content. "You deserve to be happy, too, fratello."
"Grazie, Feli. I'll call you in the morning."
"Buona notte," Feliciano waved and turned off the television.
"Buona notte," and Lovino was out the door.
He pulled up to the warehouse, exiting his car with a stride that echoed both vanity and an aloof demeanor. The young man entered the building and the shutting door announced his arrival. Everyone turned to face him and a man in his mid-fifties simply asked in Italian:
"How did it go?"
"It went as planned," the man smirked.
"You've done well, Marcello," the elder man put out his cigar in the ash tray. "I assume you know what to do from here on out?"
Marcello's smirk only broadened.
So now we know who's in affiliation with the bad guys. If you've had suspicions about him, you were right. I hope you guys are okay with an OC being with a canon character. I really don't ship any other person with Lovino other than Antonio.
The song Lovino was playing for Antonio is called Beautiful Memories by Adrian von Ziegler.
Go listen to it.
NOW. It's truly amazing.
Thanks for reading!